December 26, 2010, 7:36pm, Addis Ababa
Instead of writing yesterday, I treated myself to some reading Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Book. A little Christmas gift to myself.
Had another good day (or couple of hours anyway) with Hawi & Misikir. Hawi clearly has a tight relationship with two other girls in particular--T and B.
Misikir is one of a few older boys, and seems to be well-liked. He was disappointed to tell me that the second bird died; the first of two died two days ago.
We gave all five of our kids Christmas gifts yesterday. (Sophie was sick, so she received hers before we left for the orphanage.) The girls got matching butterfly necklaces, Misikir and Isaiah got matching hemp-braided necklaces, and Preston (who isn't a necklace guy) got a tin of mints from Hard Rock Orlando. He shared the mints. The Ethiopian kids found them to be too strong. Hawi spat hers into her hand and threw it on the ground.
On Christmas night we ate at Hi-Met Cafe. They were playing Christmas music. One of the great moments of the trip was sitting there with my family enjoying a meal that was mixed up in half a dozen ways (I blame the language barrier, but I think we may just have a bad waitress), and hearing "I'll be Home for Christmas." What a weird Christmas.
I didn't sleep well last night. Maybe that is why I found myself feeling less "up" today. The dogs bark all night long. I think they must serve some purpose--security, pest control or carrion clean-up. Whatever their purpose, these sort-of-stray dogs are widespread and nocturnal. It just turned 8:00pm, and I hear the first barks beginning. They will continue through 9:00am. That's getting old.
I got out of bed this morning in my "down" mood, dogs barking and religious chants blaring over loudspeakers to the neighborhood. I pulled aside the curtain of our room, and suddenly Ethiopia had lost much of its charm for me. The dirt road in front of our guest house is strewn with rubble and litter. We are separated from the road by a wall with electric fencing at the top. Our neighbors use razor wire (a wise choice considering the rolling blackouts). People, old cars, stray dogs and livestock intermingle along the street. Every 75 yards there is an aged tarp that signifies a shop. Every shop sells the same things--drinks, candies and convenience items. What I mean when I say "shop" is a counter you walk up to and tell someone what you want from their 6-foot by 6-foot closet. I am not a part of this community, but I also feel less like a tourist now. I walk down the street with my eyes low. Maybe I'm tired. Maybe I'm homesick. Maybe I'm sick of wondering where our stupid luggage is.
Many of our friends went home last night. We met some new friends and had a good visit with Misikir and Hawi today. We visited Intoto Mountain and did some shopping along the streets. Another early night.
I'm going to read The Jungle Book and continue hoping that each car I hear outside is the one that will bring our luggage.
P.S. I have had some moments of "extra instruction" with Preston, Isaiah and Sophie, but their resilience to the challenges here is amazing. They are doing great, and I'm proud of them.
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